


Afar

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 17:28:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14061837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Somebody’s leaving love notes in Prompto’s locker.





	Afar

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “Brotherhood Era Prompto keeps getting notes hidden away in his stuff telling him encouraging things and admitting how cute they think he is. He thinks it's one of the girls in his class because the handwriting is so neat and pretty looking... Until one day he catches a glimpse of Noct's handwriting in his school notes and realizes it's the same” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4747.html?thread=9372043#cmt9372043).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The second bell rings right as Prompto swings open his locker. For once, he doesn’t have to scramble to get his books and make it to a classroom—he and Noctis finally have a spare, and even if they have to spend it studying, that’s still a lot better than a real class is. Prompto whistles the chocobo theme to himself as he puts his Physics text away, instead retrieving the Math exercise book from the bottom rung. As he goes to shut the thin metal door again, a piece of paper topples out onto the floor. Prompto steps back to avoid crushing it. Someone must’ve stuffed it through the side of his locker. Only a few months ago, an anonymous note would probably scare him half to death—if it wasn’t some ominous extra homework from his teachers, it’d probably be someone furious at a unworthy, clingy commoner for bothering the prince, or even the complaint that he’s not worthy of Insomnia’s top school at all.

But for the last few weeks, all the notes he’s gotten have been intensely pleasant. Prompto scoops this one up with a swell of hope, and sure enough, it reads: _Your portfolio presentation today was amazing. You could be a professional photographer, and model too._

For a long moment, Prompto just stares at the smooth, flowing scrawl. It’s as encouraging and complementary as the first one was, about two months ago, that just said he was _cute_. He found it in his school bag and spent the whole walk home looking at it. It’s sort of hard to believe. He's used to being invisible. And now he’s got the best friend he could ever ask for, _and_ someone likes him. He feels like an idiot for how wide he’s smiling, but he can’t stop. 

Still entranced in the note, Prompto fumbles his locker shut and meanders down the empty hallway, around the bend and across to Noctis. The whole way there, he’s running through the possibilities in his mind—statistically speaking, it’s most likely a girl, and he’s even more sure of that because the writing’s just so neat and _pretty_. He doesn’t usually pay attention to that sort of thing, but after weeks of nothing to go on but the proverbial font type, he can’t help reading deeper into it. And this narrows things down considerably: it must be someone in his Photography class.

He’s so lost in thought that he nearly bumps right into Noctis. As Prompto stops just short of a collision, Noctis asks, “What’re you grinning at?” When Prompto just stuffs the note into his pocket and flashes Noctis his infectious smile, Noctis seems to deduce, “Oh, another note.”

Prompto grins proudly, admitting, “Yup.” It does feel sort of foolish, bragging to Noctis, because Noctis probably has ten times the admirers, if not a hundred. But still. Prompto knows Noctis is in a whole other league. And he doesn’t want to wind up horribly alone when the best thing that ever happened to him—his best friend, his prince—inevitably gets hitched. At least then they’ll be able to double date sometimes, and Prompto won’t wind up that outcast single friend who Noctis’ _actual_ partner never wants him to hang out with.

He knows he’s getting way ahead of himself again. He comes back down to reality as Noctis shuts his locker and leads them off towards the fire exit. On the way, Noctis mutters, “So, someone really likes you, huh?”

“Yeah,” Prompto chirps, immediately teasing, “is that so hard to believe?” Noctis rolls his eyes, and Prompto pushes hopefully, “I bet it’s one of the cutest girls in our grade, too! Like... Yuna, or even Rinoa!” 

He half expects Noctis to laugh in his face, but Noctis just frowns and grunts, “Yeah.” Then he looks away, and somehow, it kills the conversation in a weirdly heavy silence. Noctis usually reacts that way when Prompto actually starts guessing girls, and it always makes Prompto confused, but he leaves it.

Noctis guides them around the back of the building, and Prompto follows, until they find a secluded alley with enough grass to sit on. The two of them set up there, slinking down to crossed legs and shedding their school bags, pencils and papers coming out. Prompto mainly needs to catch up on Math, but when he sees Noctis’ History notebook come out, he sighs aloud, “Oh man, I almost forgot—I practically fell asleep in History earlier. Any chance I can get a look at your notes?”

“’Course,” Noctis answers, passing it over without a second thought. It’s vaguely ironic, since Noctis is usually the one to doze off, but even Prompto’s enthusiasm for life can’t always withstand schoolwork. At least Noctis is practically a genius. He always gets good grades. And his notes are neat and easy to decipher, unlike Sora’s doodled mess—the person Prompto had to borrow notes from the last time both he and Noctis napped right through class.

As Noctis flips distractedly through his History text, Prompto pulls the notebook into his lap. His eyes do a quick skim off the page, taking in just how much he missed, and then he sets in to read.

Except he hesitates, because something’s... _off_. He can’t quite put his finger on it. He stares blankly down at the tidy handwriting, and then his stomach drops. 

He casts a subtle glance at Noctis, but Noctis is busy with his own work. Prompto’s attention focuses back, and he carefully pulls the folded paper out of his pocket. He spreads it out atop the notebook, laying it down next to Noctis’ notes—particularly the words “presentation” and “today” in the same paragraph. Prompto eyes them so hard that it’s a wonder he doesn’t bore a hole right through the page. 

When he’s really _looking_ for it, it’s unmistakable. He can’t believe he never noticed it before. The handwriting’s exactly the same. They were written by the same person. So unless Noctis secretly made someone transcribe his notes for him...

Prompto’s been getting secret admirer messages from _Noctis_.

 _Noctis_ thinks he’s a great photographer.

 _Noctis_ thinks he could be a model.

_Noctis thinks he’s cute._

Prompto might actually be shaking. Lightly, but enough. He can’t help it. He feels numb with shock. For that brief first second, he’s _elated_. It’s too good to be true. Prince Noctis, the best part of his life, the hottest person in Lucis, the first person Prompto ever had a crush on, likes _him_. It’s surreal. It couldn’t be. Prompto made himself get over that years ago, because how could a prince ever want _him_? He tried not to look back. Noctis is just a friend. Who’s always cared for him, and been there for him, and comforted him when—

Then everything comes crashing down, and Prompto realizes that’s _exactly_ what Noctis has done. Picked him up when he fell down. And even though he tries so hard to hide it when he does fall, Noctis usually sees it. So maybe Noctis has seen all of his emotional scars too and knows just how low his self-esteem gets sometimes. 

It’s vaguely heartwarming to think that Noctis would care about him enough to go through such lengths to make him feel better. Obviously, being wanted helped—the notes were never obtrusive, never creepy, just light and sweet and thoroughly uplifting. But more than that, it’s horribly embarrassing to think that the whole time he was gushing to Noctis about someone crushing on him, he was making a complete fool of himself. And Noctis was probably just smiling out of pity. 

It doesn’t explain why Noctis always seemed bummed out when he tried to guess which girl the notes were from, but it explains everything else. Prompto makes a horrible noise that might be a dry sob. He quickly darts his hand over his mouth, but it’s not in time to stop the broken wail. 

Noctis looks over, opens his mouth, but before any words come out, he spots the primer in Prompto’s lap. It’s obvious that Prompto’s made the connection. It’s ridiculous that he didn’t sooner. Noctis’ cheeks heat, though not as bad as Prompto’s. And he looks pointedly away, scratching the back of his head and muttering, “Sorry. I just... didn’t know how to tell you to your face.”

Prompto doesn’t understand. So he doesn’t say anything, just waits as Noctis slumps and adds, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But then when you were getting all sad over winter break because you thought nobody liked you like that, and I...” 

He just sort of trails off. But the way he does it leaves Prompto wondering. It almost sounded like he was going to say that _he_ did.

Noctis doesn’t say anything else. Just keeps his eyes on the far wall, cheeks flushed and hands tense in his lap. Suddenly, it doesn’t seem like a pity move anymore. Prompto knows Noctis well enough to read him fairly well, and that’s not what’s going on. 

There are so many things Prompto wants to ask. Asking would be the right move. The only move. Except that Prompto’s always been better with actions than words, and he’s too fidgety, and he winds up jerking forward before he can stop himself, risking a quick peck to Noctis’ cheek. 

Noctis immediately looks back. He stares at Prompto in disbelief for a few seconds, then bitterly asks, “Was that a pity kiss?”

Prompto blurts, “No! I just...” It takes him a steadying breath to manage, “did you really mean all those things?”

Noctis says, “Of course,” like it’s stupid of Prompto to think he would’ve lied. 

Slowly, Prompto can feel himself smiling again. It seems to melt some of the tension off Noctis’ face. His blush deepens, but so does Prompto’s. Finally, Prompto mumbles, “That’s... really sweet, dude.”

And he tentatively leans in again, but doesn’t quite connect them—he waits for Noctis to do that. Noctis turns right into him, tilts forward, and presses their lips together. The kiss is quick, chaste, but warm and perfect. When they part, Prompto can’t stop smiling.

Noctis is smiling sheepishly too. 

He offers, “Sorry I’m not a cute girl.”

“Pfft,” Prompto snorts, “Just about a million times better.”

He gives Noctis another kiss, and this time, Noctis meets him properly, fast and hard and enough to knock the note of his lap. Their homework winds up utterly forgotten.

But when the spare’s over and there’s no time left for kissing and cuddling like the total dorks they are, Prompto’s sure to collect his note for safekeeping.


End file.
